


Jackson and Unrealistic Hobbies

by amelianonymous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Ignores Canon, Jackson-centric, Malia Tate & Jackson Whittemore are Siblings, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:19:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11867559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelianonymous/pseuds/amelianonymous
Summary: Jackson returns to Beacon Hills and discovers he has a sister. As he readjusts to life in Beacon Hills, trouble brews on the horizon.





	1. A Trip

When Jackson moved to London with his parents, they only became more distant than before. Now that they could go on day trips to other countries, they were never home. Every other Saturday, though, his mother made sure they had brunch. Jackson had opted out of continuing traditional education, instead deciding to finish off his school years through online school. It was simultaneously easier and harder than high school was, but the worst part of it was all the free time he had. It meant that he had hours to agonize over whether or not he should try to get into contact with Lydia every single day.  
To distract himself, he came up with a million little side projects. He took one of those do-it-yourself DNA testing kits. He learned how to draw photorealistic dog portraits. He began taking conversational Mandarin and Arabic.  
He sought a way to combine all these new found interests. He sat in a park, offering to draw people’s dogs while trying to guess the dog breed’s country of origin. People kept trying to tip him, and, after a while, he started letting them. Soon enough, he had a park bench that was his. Every afternoon he’d come out to the park and draw.  
Soon that wasn’t enough. He was lonely and he hated it.  
He messaged Danny over Facebook.

Jackson: Hey.

Jackson went to nibble on his fingernails, but he stopped himself because gross. When Danny didn’t respond in ten minutes Jackson reminded himself that Danny may have school and he didn’t even know what time it was in Beacon Hills. He decided to draw a baby pug; they were always strangely calming. He was working on the eyes when his phone pinged at him.

Danny: hey. what’s up?

Jackson quickly set aside the pug and grabbed his phone, but his fingers stilled. What should he say? He hadn’t spoken with Danny since he’d left Beacon Hills six months ago.

Jackson: Not much. 

He had to add something. But what?

Jackson: I’ve just been lonely--

No, no, no. He deleted the whole message.

Jackson: I’ve gotten rather good at drawing pugs. 

Nice. Personal, but not deep. You’ve got to lead up to that emotional stuff. Yeah. Jackson could do this.

Danny: cool. can i see?

Jackson could not do this. What if Danny didn’t like his pug drawings? What if he said they were stupid?  
Okay, so Danny would never say they were stupid. He just wouldn’t. And Jackson couldn’t just promise him pugs and not deliver.  
Jackson sent him a picture of his in-progress baby pug drawing.

Jackson: Not finished, obvi.

Wait, were they close enough now for Jackson to use obvi? He fretted for a second.

Danny: so cute.

Danny: u doin ok?

He’d forgotten this was Danny. Danny didn’t care if he used dumb slang; he cared if he was acting strangely. Like contacting him after months of silence. This was a bad idea. 

Danny: hey. talk to me. 

Danny wouldn’t let him go now that he’d figured out something was wrong. He was like a shark with blood, except that Danny wasn’t going to eat Jackson. Or anyone, presumably. Jackson wouldn’t know; he hadn’t seen his best friend in ages.  
He supposed that was his problem.

Jackson: Sorry for ghosting you.

Danny: s’cool.

Jackson: I just wanted to say hi.

Would Danny take that with all that implied or would he try to drag the whole thing out of him?

Danny: what’s wrong?

This was Danny; this wasn’t going to end until Jackson had spilt all of his newly acquired secrets.

Jackson: Skype?

Danny: google hangouts is better.

Jackson exited out of Facebook and opened the app. Danny was already on. Seeing his friend’s face after so long was relieving. It was as if he’d been free-floating and had just felt gravity again. His world re-centered. He needed to get back to Beacon Hills. He wasn’t sure why.  
“Hey.” Danny started.  
Jackson smiled. “Hey.”  
“Do you have something to tell me?” Danny pressed.  
“I’m headed to Beacon Hills. You still in town?” Jackson asked with a bluster he didn’t feel.  
Danny raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I am, in fact, still in town. I haven’t decided to move away part way through the school year.” Danny’s eyes bored into his, aware that wasn’t everything.  
Jackson cracked. “London’s kind of lonely. Big city and all; alone in a crowd. All that stuff.”  
“Want to talk about it?”  
“No, not really?”  
“Hm.” Danny studied Jackson’s face through the screen. “I’ll let you get away with it this time, but only ‘cause you’re coming home.” Jackson couldn’t believe his luck. “You can tell me all about it when you’re here.” There it was. Jackson should have known better. Of course he wasn’t off the hook. “When are you planning on getting here?”  
“As soon as I can. I haven’t booked anything yet, but I’m going to take the first flight back.”  
“Maybe we should talk about how lonely you’ve been--”  
“It’s not ‘cause of that. I just feel like I need to be there.” Danny gave him a skeptical look. “I don’t know why; I just do.”  
“Just know, if you want to, I’m here--”  
“I know; I know. Trust me, I’m not coming home because I’m dying of isolation. Really, I’m not!”  
“If you say so. Do you want some help planning your trip?”  
“No, but maybe stay on?” Jackson asked tentatively as he pulled up Heathrow’s website.  
“O.K.”

“So,” his mother caressed her cat tea cup that she had reserved for her at the cafe they were at for brunch that day. “You’re going to Beacon Hills?”  
They were on the terrace, so her eyes were covered by large white sunglasses; she was impossible to read. Jackson desperately wished he could tell what she thought about him returning to the place where he supposedly got addicted to steroids. He wondered what her opinion on Beacon Hills had been before that whole debacle. He wondered what it was after. He wondered what her opinion of him was before. What it was after.  
“Yes; I miss the sun.” He said in between bites of a particularly good crepe.  
“I’ve heard they have good sun down in Turks and Caicos. We could take a trip together. You’ve been looking a little pale lately.” She remained inscrutable as her fruit plate arrived. For all that she was unreadable, Jackson must have been an open book. She could tell he wasn’t amenable to her offering, so she gave another suggestion. “Or we could go to Cuba. It’d be a new experience, and I want to go before it gets commercialized.” Her small nose wrinkled. “Doesn’t that sound fun, dear?”  
Jackson needed to stand his ground. “I would like that, but after I visit California.” He braced for impact as he said. “I’ve already bought the ticket and arranged everything.”  
His mother sipped on her tea, the ears of the cat sticking up in a way that seemed impractical, but which she made look like the height of elegance. When she finished she said. “I see.”  
Jackson did the best damage control he could without taking back his plans. “I’m months ahead on my lessons--”  
“I always knew you were a bright boy; your friends were just holding you back.” She sniffed delicately.  
Jackson was blinded by anger. “What was holding me back, mother, was an obsession with control over my public image, not my friends.” He shook his head, trying to clear it. When that didn’t help, he stood up from the table and left.  
He knew he should feel worse about what he just did, but he couldn’t find it within himself. He just wasn’t sufficiently mature. Strangely enough, that just made him angrier.

“You had a fight with your mother?” Danny whistled in disbelief. “I thought you mostly just had fights with your dad?”  
“Well, he hasn’t exactly been around much.” Jackson grumbled.  
“What did you fight about?”  
“She wasn’t… enthused about me coming back to Beacon Hills.” Jackson couldn’t tell Danny the real reason. He was bitter enough towards his parents; he didn’t want Danny, who had never seen his parents as anything other than slightly reprehensible, to have a good reason to dislike them.  
Danny snorted. “I can’t imagine why.”  
Jackson shook his head, smiling. “Yeah, but I really need to go, you know?”  
“Not really, I don’t see why anyone would want to come back to this dump. Sure, it’s quaint, it’s beautiful and has good schools, really it’s just a nice place to raise children--”  
“You’re going to go away for college to a big city, grab yourself a man, and come running right back to have kids.”  
“No, I won’t!” Danny protested. “Well, maybe. It’s a good place for it, is all.”  
Jackson grinned.  
“Speaking of children…” Jackson had no idea where this was going. “Have you looked into your birth parents any more?”  
“What a segue.” Jackson teased. “No; I took one of those DNA tests that tells you what geographical area your genes are from--”  
“Like 23andMe?”  
“Yeah. And I’m a lot more Native American than I would have guessed, honestly, but that’s as close as I’ve gotten to looking into my biological family.” Jackson shrugged. “Why?”  
“You just seemed so freaked out by being adopted; I thought you’d look into it more.”  
“They don’t have anything on record about my adoption; it was a closed one, I think the term is? Anyways, there’s no information on my birth parents.”  
“Maybe not directly, but I’m sure we could figure out who they were.”  
Jackson did not like the sound in Danny’s voice. “Hey, hey. Stop it right there. That’s your ‘I can solve all our problems by breaking my probation’ voice. This--” Jackson motioned in a circle with his hand. “--is not a problem. And you--” The circling hand pointed towards Danny. “--don’t need to go to jail. So no, I’m going to stop you right there.”  
“It’d just be a little hacking, nothing even the slightest bit difficult.”  
Jackson stared Danny down.  
“I wouldn’t be a hacker good enough for the government to care if I couldn’t do this undetected. Trust me, adoption records are not securely kept information.”  
But Jackson recognized that voice too. “But that wouldn’t be the only place you’d hack into, would it? Danny…”  
“O.K., O.K.” Danny threw his hands up in defeat. “I’ll drop it.”  
“Really?”  
“Really.” Danny looked away from the computer for a second. “We’ve got a room ready for you here. What time are you getting in again?”  
“6 a.m.” Jackson grimaced.  
“Just in time for me to pick you up before school.”  
“Joy.”  
“Shut up; you’re happy it’s me and not my mom.”  
“Only ‘cause your mom would cry for an hour before taking us home.”  
“She only does that ‘cause she cares.” Danny chastised.  
“It’s awful.”  
“You all packed?”  
“Of course I’m packed. I’m not going to leave it to the last minute.”  
“Just checking. Want to make sure nothing goes wrong.”  
“Nothing will; at least, nothing before I get to Beacon Hills.”  
Danny gave Jackson a disappointed look.  
“Hey, it’s true! That town is bad luck.”  
“You’re just jinxing yourself. You know what they say about self-fulfilling prophecies.”  
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
“Bright and early!”  
Jackson groaned.


	2. A Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson's back in Beacon Hills and Danny cares less about doing illegal things than he probably should.

The flight had been fine, if a little more annoying than when he had been human. Everything about the experience was just louder, which made it all just that much more frustrating.  
Danny was waiting for him, and, like the angel Danny was, had already gotten his luggage for him. He took his suitcases from his friend and they headed to Danny’s car.  
“Do you want to go to school with me?” Danny asked.  
Jackson looked at Danny, considering. On one hand, he was exhausted; on the other, it would be entertaining. “I think I’ll go with you tomorrow. Today I’ll sleep.”  
Danny nodded. Jackson nearly dozed off on the ride to his friend’s house. After they got him set up in his room and Danny left, Jackson crashed. 

He woke up for dinner, and, as predicted, Danny’s mother cried. Jackson did his best to stop her, but she would have none of it. After the meal was over, Danny cornered Jackson before he could go back to sleep.  
“Did you not tell anyone else you were coming?”  
“Um.”  
“Jackson!” Danny smacked Jackson’s arm. “You need to go let your pack know.”  
“My pack?”  
Danny looked a mix of fed up and regretful. “Yeah, your pack. They need to know you’re here. You need them to know you’re here.”  
“How do you know about my pack?” Jackson asked. “How do you know about werewolves?”  
“Well, you aren’t exactly subtle and Stiles and Scott are especially obtuse.”  
Jackson snorted. “Can’t argue with that.”  
“I think I knew there were werewolves before you did.”  
“Maybe. I did take an embarrassingly long time to figure it out.”  
“Just checking: you’re still going to school with me tomorrow?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Will you go tell your pack that you’re here right now?”  
“Do I have to go right now?” Jackson whined.  
“Yes.” Danny shoved Jackson out of the door. “Go talk. Who knows what you’ve missed?”

Jackson was kind of mad at Danny right now. He understood why Danny wanted him to go talk with Derek and Scott, but he didn’t have a car, so he was stuck walking. At the moment he was searching out Derek, whose location he was completely unaware of. He had no idea where to find the man. So he switched targets and started for Scott’s house. By the time he reached the building he was done. Done with being awake, done with walking around in the dark, and done being here.  
Instead of trying to talk to Scott, he just yelled. “Hey, Scott. I’m in town. Tell all your friends. I’m going to bed. G’night.”  
Then he left.

“How’d your talk go?” Danny asked as they drove to school.  
“Great.” Jackson drank a heavy draught of coffee. Sure, it didn’t affect him physically, but the psychic effects were still there. If he believed the coffee would work, then it would. It was like magic! Or proven science, same thing. “I feel like I got across everything I wanted to very clearly.”  
“Good then. I’m glad.” Danny pulled into a parking space. “Did you inform Lydia that you were coming?”  
“No, but I think that the pack spread the news. I asked them to.” Jackson tossed his coffee in the trash. They entered the school and every eye turned towards them. Whispers filled the halls and one very obvious yell.  
“I thought you were messing with me!” Stiles’ voice rang through the hall, making Jackson roll his eyes. “No way Jackson showed up outside your house in the middle of the night and shouted at you! But here he is! Not in England!”  
Jackson rather suddenly wished he was back in England.  
“Yeah. It’s weird, isn’t it?” Scott responded. “Wonder what he’s doing here.”  
“I wonder if he’s dying!”  
“Why would he be dying?”  
“Why else would he come back unless he was in dire straits?”  
“Dire straits is a really strange turn of phrase.”  
“Yeah it is.”  
Jackson turned to Danny. “I hate them.”  
Danny patted his back. “I want to get to class early. You need to talk them some more, obviously.”  
Then Danny abandoned him to the cruel hands of fate. Had Jackson known this day would come, he never would have shared his goldfish in kindergarten.  
“Jackson!” He flinched as a spastic hand reached out to him. Stiles’ smiling face stared up at him. “What are you doing here?”  
“Torturing myself.”  
“You aren’t even close to as funny as you think you are.”  
Jackson huffed. “I…” It sounded so dumb when he said it to Stiles. “...just had a feeling.”  
Stiles raised an eyebrow. “Whatever you say.”  
“Does it really matter? I’m here. Deal with it.” His arms were crossed over his chest defensively.  
“You’re still a jerk.” Stiles rolled his eyes.  
“You don’t seem to have changed either.”  
Stiles crinkled his nose at Jackson and he was briefly reminded of his mother. It was very disconcerting. “Are you staying for long? Either way, we’ve got to talk to you. You up for dinner?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Good. You can pick up the check.”  
Jackson snorted. “So long as Danny can come, I’m cool.”  
“Danny?” Stiles looked at Jackson like he was crazy. “Why would we bring Danny to a super secret werewolf meeting?”  
“Why would we bring you?”  
“Ha ha. You’re hilarious. You should do stand-up.” Stiles rolled his eyes. Scott had been distracted for the entire conversation up until this point, at which he re-entered with a confused head tilt. Stiles explained to him. “Jackson wants to bring Danny to his supernatural catch up session.”  
“Oh, okay. We can invite the whole pack; it’ll be great.” Scott replied.  
“No, it will not be great. Danny doesn’t know about werewolves!”  
“The whole school will know about werewolves if you keep yelling like that.” Jackson admonished. Stiles glared at him. “And Danny does know about werewolves.”  
Stiles was stunned into silence for a second. “...Danny knows about werewolves.”  
“Yeah.” Jackson was blase. “Told me last night.”  
“Danny knows about werewolves.” Stiles repeated.  
“Yes. What?”  
“Well,” Scott tried to interpret Stiles’ continued disbelief. “He dated one. A werewolf, I mean. An alpha, in fact.”  
“Really? Huh. You leave for a few months and your best friend dates an alpha.”  
Scott turned to Stiles. “Actually, are they still dating?”  
Stiles shrugged. “It’s hard to tell?” Jackson raised an eyebrow. “It’s Danny! And they’ve kind of been on and off. I think. Like I said, it’s hard to tell. Lydia would know; she’s had that thing with Aiden.”  
“What?” Jackson interrupted.  
“Aiden is Ethan’s twin brother--You know what? Let’s just save it all for dinner.” Stiles hiked his backpack up on his shoulder and turned to leave. “Prepare your wallet, Jackson.”  
Scott waved before following.

Jackson did his best to not think about what “that thing with Aiden” Lydia had--has?--as he left the school building. He was naturally a jealous person, but he had been mellowing out lately and was trying to move past that part of himself. Personal growth and all that. Danny would be proud.  
He would come back to have lunch with Danny. Maybe he’d get to meet that on-and-off boyfriend Stiles had mentioned. Maybe he’d get to meet Aiden.  
He needed to find something to do. Maybe he could find a dog. Dogs are good. If he could pick up a pen and a post-it, he could draw a dog. Give it to Danny at lunch. 

At a diner near the school, Jackson settled down with his scavenged tools and began his work. He didn’t even notice when Derek approached.  
“Hey.” Derek said awkwardly. Jackson looked up, startled.  
“Hey.” Jackson responded. After a moment, he gestured towards the seat across from him. “Sit down.”  
Derek did as Jackson asked, folding himself into the opposite side of the booth. “How are you doing?”  
“Good. You?”  
“Pretty good.”  
“Good.”  
“Yeah.”  
They were silent for a few tense moments.  
“How do you feel about not talking to each other?” Jackson suggested.  
“Sounds good.” Derek looked vaguely relieved.  
They sat in comfortable quiet for hours as they both worked independently. When Jackson had finished drawing a French Bulldog, Derek gave him another piece of paper from the notebook he had open in front of him. Eventually, Jackson’s phone buzzed. 

Danny: where are you? i’m ready for lunch.

“Hey.” Jackson got Derek’s attention. “I’m going to invite Danny, if that’s okay?”  
“Yeah.” Derek nodded as he went back to what he was working on. “Danny’s okay.”

Jackson: I’m at Mindy’s.

Jackson: Derek’s here too.

Jackson looked up from his phone. “Wait, ‘Danny’s okay?’ You’ve met Danny?”  
“Once. Maybe more?” Derek answered distractedly. “Kid’s always on the periphery of things.”  
“Huh.” 

Danny: cool. i’m bringing ethan with me. have you met yet?

Jackson: No.

“What do you know about Ethan?” Jackson asked.  
Derek looked up. “The twin?” Jackson nodded. “Well, he’s an alpha.”  
“I’ve heard.”  
Derek shrugged. “Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t actually hang out with every teenager in Beacon Hills. I don’t know him at all. He’s new?”  
“Anything else? Any idea on personality? Is he a good guy?” Jackson dug.  
“He seems like a nice guy? A little dim, if you ask me.”  
“I do.”  
Derek snorted. “I think he’s up to something, but I don’t think that’ll he’ll let anything happen to Danny. That’s my general impression.”  
Jackson mulled that over for a second. “Any other information?”  
Derek rolled his eyes and went back to his notebook. “He’s muscular and ‘attractive in a douchey way.’”  
“Stiles quote?”  
“Stiles quote.”  
Jackson wondered if he should stop talking; he and Derek seemed to get along fine when there was very limited conversation. Where was the tipping point? Where was the line of too much talking?  
“Hey.” Derek waved his hand in front of Jackson’s face. “You’re thinking too much. Stop worrying. Things work themselves out.”  
“You believe that?”  
Derek shrugged. “Kind of. I mean, so much has gone wrong in my life, and it hasn’t really worked out, and I’m not really in a great place right now, but…” Derek gave a ‘what can you do’ motion. “...the next day always comes. One day it won’t, but until then, there’s always another morning to see. Things will change. Maybe for the worst.” Derek conceded. “But at least things will change. Change is the only constant.”  
Jackson wasn’t sure what to do with that. It seemed like the kind of moment that Stiles would try to drag out of Derek; he’d definitely appreciate it more.  
Derek and Jackson turned their heads to the door as Danny and a blond dude bro walked through the door.  
Derek pointed at the bro. “That’s Ethan.”  
Ethan, having heard Derek’s words from across the restaurant, nodded in greeting. He was smiling. Jackson wasn’t sure what to make of him. He definitely seemed like Danny’s type: hot and dangerous. The problem with Danny’s type was that they tended to be trash disguised as bad boys. Would this guy turn out to be yet another mistake?  
Derek kicked Jackson under the table. “You’re overthinking things again. Stop it.”  
Danny strolled up to the table, Ethan trailing behind him. “Hey guys. I didn’t realize you knew each other.”  
“You know us werewolves, we all know each other.” Jackson deadpanned.  
Ethan’s eyes widened in panic and he glanced rapidly between Jackson and Danny.  
“He knows.” Jackson said, rolling his eyes.  
“Have you guys already gotten food?” Danny asked.  
“No, actually. You think we would have, but no.” Derek responded, not looking up from his notebook.  
“Okay, cool. Do you know what you want? We can go up and order it for you.”  
“I’ll take what I always get.” Jackson had been craving Mindy’s curly fries for months.  
“A burger, any burger.” Derek said.  
“Got it. Be back in a sec.” Danny dragged Ethan to the cashier.  
“Should we rearrange?” Derek asked.  
“What?” Jackson responded, confused.  
“If we stay in the current seating arrangement, Danny and Ethan will have to sit between us in the booth. I don’t know that it matters.”  
“It doesn’t really, but it’d be annoying to get up for them. I guess I’ll move over.” Jackson slid over to sit next to Derek in the booth.  
Danny slid into the booth. “Ethan’s getting drinks. You guys didn’t specify, but I told Ethan to mix you lemonade and Sprite.” He nodded at Jackson. “And I got you water.” He nodded at Derek.  
“Thanks.” murmured Derek.  
“Food should be coming soon.” Danny tried to fill the silence.  
Jackson remembered the dog he drew. “Oh, hey, Danny. I drew you a dog.” He pulled the post-it out from under the drawing he’d been working on.  
“Cool. I love French Bulldogs.”  
“I know.”  
Derek had a judgy look on his face.  
“Shut up.” Jackson whispered back. He couldn’t tell if Danny hadn’t heard him or was just pretending to be deaf. Danny was just polite like that.  
“You have gotten genuinely good at drawing dogs.” observed Danny. “Strangely good.”  
“I’ve had an awful lot of free time lately.”  
Danny nodded. “How’s school going?”  
“I’m doing online school. It’s easy; I’m ahead. It’s why I have so much time.”  
“Online school?” Derek looked up from his notebook. “Do you think it’s an actual viable teaching method?”  
“Not in the way I’m experiencing it. It really needs to advance before it should be expanded.”  
“Ah. Unfortunate.”  
“It works for what I need.”  
“That is?”  
“A high school degree.”  
“Ah.”  
“Jackson.” Danny scolded. “You should try to learn things.”  
“I do that outside of school.”  
Danny gave him a dry look. Ethan passed out the drinks and sat down next to Danny. “So…” the alpha started. “Who is this?” He motioned towards Jackson.  
“I thought you said you all knew each other.” Danny accused Jackson.  
“I moved away before he moved into town.” Jackson responded. “And it was a joke.”  
“Whatever. Anyways, this is Jackson. Jackson, Ethan.”  
Awkward ‘hey’s were exchanged. There was a strange tension in the air, as if a challenge had been issued and left unanswered. It dissipated when Derek snorted.  
“What are you laughing about, Derek?” grumbled Jackson.  
“Absolutely nothing.” He replied, smirking. “You know? I think I have work to do. I’ll just leave--”  
“No, you won’t.” Jackson grabbed his arm as he stood to leave. “You will not just abandon me in my time of need. And you’ve been getting work done here, right?” He gestured towards Derek’s notebook. “Or at least that’s what I think you’ve been doing. What exactly have you been doing?”  
Derek sat back down, rolling his eyes as he resigned himself to his fate. “I’ve been thinking about moving--”  
“That’s exciting.” Danny replied, smiling.  
Ethan nodded, though he seemed slightly less genuine.  
“So I’ve made a list of what I want in a house, but that devolved into just designing a house. And that’s where I am now. The plans are about halfway done.” Derek showed the notebook to the table.  
“Wait, wait.” Jackson made a stopping motion with his hands. “This looks good. This looks professional.”  
“Thanks, I guess. I mean, I did it freehand so the lines and angles aren’t as nice as they should be, but--”  
“No, no, no. My point is: why can you design a house? Like, well.”  
“I majored in architecture.”  
“You went to college?” Jackson, in hindsight, realized that this fact should have surprised him less.  
Derek gave Jackson a long pointed look. “...Yes. I graduated from NYU.”  
“What with? Like, major in architecture and a minor in…?’  
“I double majored in architecture and Spanish. I was actually working on getting my master’s at Columbia--”  
“You whore. How could you not tell me this before?” Jackson accused.  
“I don’t know what my being a whore as to do with reticence, but, believe it or not, my degree has never really been relevant to any conversation we have ever had.”  
Sometimes Derek was too sassy for Jackson to appreciate. “Okay, whatever.”  
Danny interrupted. “So are you going to build this house?”  
Derek just stared at him.  
“It’s an option.” Danny continued.  
“You have the money.” Jackson added on. He could picture it happening. He knew the construction companies in town thanks to his mother’s huge renovation project a few years back. He could get this rolling. Jackson started making plans.  
He took Derek’s notebook and glanced over it. There were a few features that Derek wanted that would require them to bring in people from San Francisco, but the style of the house fit well with the aesthetic done commonly by a local company. He wrote down their number and listed a few suggestions for how to go about negotiating.  
“What are you doing?” Derek asked.  
“Trying to figure out how you’d do this. Honestly, as much as I hate to say it, Stiles would probably be helpful, at least for suggestions in terms of design choices. I can get the bare bones and he can help you pick an interior designer that you like.”  
“I don’t think--”  
“--that you’ll need an interior designer? I suppose not. It’d be easier, but you would probably prefer to pick things out yourself. Well, with everyone’s help. Mainly Stilinski’s.” Jackson handed the notebook back to Derek. “I wrote down the number for a construction company in the area that I think would be a good fit--”  
“I still don’t know that I want to build a house.” Derek said, shutting Jackson down entirely.  
“O.K.” Jackson leaned back in the booth. He drank his lemonade and Sprite so he wouldn’t have to talk.  
Danny tried to hold up the conversation all by himself, but no-one was willing to help him, so it ended up being little more than a monologue. When the food came, the boys all breathed a sigh of relief. Derek had been getting twitchy.  
As the other three dug in, Danny struck. “So, Jackson, you know that project you told me to drop?”  
Jackson set down the curly fry he was about to eat. “Danny, no.”  
“Calc was super boring and Mr. Peters lets me have my laptop out--”  
“Danny, we talked about this.”  
“We did. You’re totally right. And if you don’t want to know what I found, I won’t tell you.”  
Jackson stared into his curly fries, contemplating his fate. Danny always fought unfairly like this. He was just cruel. Jackson picked up the curly fry he set down earlier and pointed it at Danny. “I want to know, but not right now. Too many ears.”  
“Well…” Danny dragged out the word. “Some of the ears may deserve to hear this.”  
“Which ears?”  
Danny glanced over at Derek. Jackson’s eyes widened.  
“Then it seems this revelation can wait until a more opportune moment.” Jackson shoved the curly fry in his mouth.  
Danny nodded and then pointedly turned to Ethan, clearly signaling that part of the conversation was over. “How’s your day been?”  
Ethan was startled to suddenly be involved. “Uh, good? Chemistry wasn’t as bad as usual.”  
“Good.” Danny smiled with dimples. Ethan visibly melted and the two chatted happily.  
Jackson, meanwhile, did his best not to throw up while Derek laughed at him.  
Eventually, Ethan had to go back to class. In theory, Danny should head back, too, but he had a free period and his teacher didn’t care, so he stuck around picking on Ethan’s leftover fries. It didn’t take long for him to return to his earlier point.  
“You don’t have to know, you know? You seem to be in a fairly good place right now. Maybe it’d be best if I didn’t tell you.” Danny tried.  
“Danny. You can’t do this to me.” Jackson scolded, exasperated. “Just tell me already.”  
“O.K. Just remember this is all your fault.”  
“Wha--But you’re the one-”  
“So I compared the births at the hospital on the day you were born and it turns out you weren’t born at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, but rather Midtown.” Danny gave Jackson a significant look, as if that was supposed to mean something to him.  
“...O.K?”  
Danny sighed. “You know who else was born at Midtown that day? And hour? And was given up for adoption?”  
“...No?”  
Danny looked at him. “Guess.”  
“Uh… Stiles?”  
“What? No. Where would you get that idea?”  
“I literally know no-one our age that was adopted, Danny. I have no good options here.”  
Danny’s face morphed into a look of realization. “I forgot you’d moved away by then. She moved here like a month after you left.” His face scrunched up. “A lot of people moved here right after you left.”  
“What can I say? I just left a gaping hole in Beacon Hills that had to be filled.” Jackson shrugged, jokingly oozing arrogance. “Anyways, who moved here?”  
“Like everyone.”  
“No, no. Specifically that girl you mentioned.”  
Derek interrupted. “Malia.”  
Jackson and Danny turned to look at him. Jackson had to do a fairly dramatic twist in his seat in order to accomplish this.  
Derek continued at Jackson’s implied insistence. “Malia was stuck as a werecoyote for years in the desert--”  
“Wait, what?” Danny exclaimed. “That explains so much of what Stiles and Scott have been saying.”  
“You talk to Stiles and Scott?”  
“No, they’re just loud.”  
“Anyways,” Derek continued. “She’s had a tough time adjusting to being human. Stiles has been helping her through it. They met at Eichen.”  
“The mental institute?” Jackson asked, disbelieving.  
“Yeah.” Derek started packing up his stuff. “But that’s not my story to tell; you’ll just have to ask Stiles about it.”  
Jackson grimaced. “We aren’t very good at talking.”  
“Suck it up.” Derek lifted his bag. “Do you need a ride?”  
Jackson looked towards Danny in askance.  
“I’ve got lacrosse tonight. It’d probably be best if you left.” He responded. Jackson nodded.  
He and Derek left together, getting into the camaro. Jackson asked. “Where are we headed?”  
“It seems a pack meeting is imminent, so we’ve got some shopping to do.”  
“I haven’t thrown a party together in ages.”  
“It’s not a party, it’s more of a… casual get together. I’m 26. I don’t throw parties for teenagers.”  
“Uh-huh.” Jackson agreed sarcastically. “What was Danny trying to imply about Malia?”  
Derek slammed on the brakes and the car squealed to a stop. Jackson was freaking out in the passenger seat, looking around for other cars. Luckily there were none. He looked back at Derek only to see the man looking at him like Jackson was the dumbest person he’d ever had the displeasure of meeting.  
“He was implying, if you can call it that, that you and Malia are born on the same day, in the same hospital, by the same parents.”  
Jackson was the stupidest person Jackson had ever had the displeasure of meeting.  
“He thinks you’re twins, Jackson.” Derek turned back to the windshield. “I, personally, can’t really see it. For all that she’s behind in school, Malia has demonstrated a remarkable intelligence that you seem to lack entirely.”  
“You know what? I can’t see it either.”


	3. Pack Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a former life, Derek was a gymnast.

The impromptu pack meeting had to be held a little late due to lacrosse practice, but when it started Derek’s whole apartment quickly flooded with teenagers. For one second Jackson spotted complete dismay on Derek’s face as he realized that this what his life was now before he got it under control and stalked to the kitchen. Crowds weren’t really Derek’s thing, Jackson figured, much less crowds of teenagers. It was just funny how life worked out sometimes.  
Many of the faces in the room were foreign to Jackson, but some were just barely recognizable versions of people he had known once when he was younger. Jackson could name them all; he had always been good with faces.  
Derek’s voice echoed in his head, telling him to talk to Stiles, but he put it off, deciding instead to introduce himself to new people. He met Aiden, Kira, and Allison’s dad. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing there, but Chris seemed like a pretty cool guy for a mobster.  
“I’m not a mobster.” Chris repeated exasperatedly.  
“Sure, Chris. Whatever you say.” Jackson replied. Allison smiled at him as she passed by, completely ignoring Scott. They must have broken up fairly recently. Isaac was standing in between them, looking kind of nervous.  
“So I’ve heard that you’ve got some big news.” Chris said, eyebrows raised.  
Jackson was unsure to what Chris was referring to.  
“In terms of family.” Chris hinted.  
“Oh. Yeah. How’d you hear?”  
“Derek called me.”  
“He does that?”  
“It’s nice being able to talk to another adult.”  
Jackson made a noise of understanding, remembering Derek’s look from earlier. “I think he needs that a rather lot.”  
“Well, it’s not just him.”  
“I suppose not.”  
Chris poured himself a glass of water and drank it like it was something a whole lot stronger. After finishing it, he asked. “When are you going to announce it?”  
“Haven’t really thought about it.” Jackson contemplated getting himself a drink as well. “Not been a lot of time, you know?”  
“True.”  
Jackson looked to the door as Danny entered. He heard many of the other guests murmur, but Derek spoke up before anyone could say anything.  
“It looks like everyone’s here. Let’s gather in the living room.”  
The whole crowd awkwardly shuffled into an area full of improvised seating. Pillows were strewn on the ground and mismatched chairs scattered around two couches and a coffee table that seemed to make up the only permanent pieces of furniture in the room. Derek, Scott, and Stiles took oddly symbolic seats on the couch in the middle and everyone filed in around them. Jackson made sure to grab two chairs so that Danny could sit next to him. Ethan sat next to Danny and his twin joined him. Chris didn’t sit, choosing instead to lean against the wall to the side of the entry way.  
Jackson wondered who would actually start the meeting. It would indicate something about the pack. Stiles opened his mouth. “So we’ve called this meeting because one of our old pack members has come back for a visit. Say ‘hi,’ Jackson.” Jackson waved hesitantly. “Some of you already know him.” Stiles looked at Isaac, Boyd, and Erica in particular as he said this. “But others have not had the pleasure of meeting him.”  
“Fuck you, too, Stiles.” Jackson sipped on his water. He was surprised when he heard Chris’ quiet chuckle.  
“He’s a joy to be around; a real bucket of sunshine.” Stiles continued.  
“I could say the same about you.” Jackson set his drink down on the floor. “So to everyone that doesn’t know me: hi. I’m Jackson Whittemore, age 17. I’m a Gemini and adopted. Once upon a time, I was a lizard monster, and that was gross, but I’m over that, I swear. I currently live in London, but I don’t like the city much. Paris is better, but Barcelona would have to be my ideal home. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but this town will be infinitely cooler while I am.”  
“I hate you.” Stiles stated.  
“I don’t hate anyone because I am great and magnanimous.”  
“Do you even know what that word means?”  
“Anyways,” Scott interrupted. “We were just wondering why you decided to come back to Beacon Hills without warning or prompting.”  
Jackson scratched his head. “I already told you; I just had a feeling.”  
Scott nodded like that was a perfectly acceptable answer, but Stiles clearly disagreed. Derek ignored them, however, and gave Jackson a questioning look. Jackson knew exactly what he was asking, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell everyone about Danny’s suspicions. He glanced back at Danny to get his advice on the matter. They had a brief conversation with their eyes when Danny made his decision for him.  
“I’ve been looking into Jackson’s birth parents.” Every eye zeroed in on Danny as he spoke. “Turns out, Jackson may not be an only child. In fact, he may have a twin in this very room.”  
The room was silent until Stiles broke out. “C’mon, you’re killing us with the suspense! Who’s related to Jackson?”  
There was a girl in the back of the room that began shifting. The movement caught Jackson’s eye and he watched as she met his gaze. Beyond brown hair, they had little in common, but he could feel it as sure as he could feel his blood moving through his veins: this was his sister. Her stance changed; she could feel it too. For a second it seemed she would run, but then Stiles looked her way and she settled. Stiles’ eyes widened as he came to a realization.  
“No. You’re kidding me. No way.” Stiles shook his head. “I don’t believe this. This isn’t possible.”  
Danny had always been quick on the uptake, and this time wasn’t any different. “Think about it: they were both adopted. They were both born at Midtown. Both are--”  
“This is ridiculous. They don’t even look alike!” Stiles protested.  
Somehow, Scott had cottoned on to what was happening, perhaps thanks to years of experience with Stiles. He glanced back and forth between Jackson and Malia. “I can kind of see it.” He said, unwisely.  
Stiles glared at his best friend. “Traitor.” He hissed.  
Derek’s calm voice entered the fray. “Stiles, no matter what you say, that won’t change any facts. We haven’t confirmed that the two of them are related in any way whatsoever yet. If you feel the need, I’m sure Danny could look into the matter further.”  
Danny nodded, but Jackson took issue with this plan. “No, Danny can’t because Danny shouldn’t have looked into it at all in the first place.”  
“Jackson…” Danny tried.  
“Stop. You’re going to get yourself arrested and this really isn’t worth it.”  
“It isn’t.” Derek agreed. “Believe it or not, whether or not you and Malia are related doesn’t actually affect anything.”  
There was a collective gasp from the audience. Most people hadn’t been able to follow the looks that had been sent between all the boys and Malia from their locations mostly on the ground. Jackson saw Chris roll his eyes dramatically and empathized. This whole situation was ridiculous.  
Malia, for her part, seemed to be taking it all fairly well. She wasn’t yelling or crying, so, really, it was a win in Jackson’s book. He wondered if she liked The Notebook. He hadn’t watched it in a while and it’d be nice if they could bond over something. What did she like? The only information he had about her was that she’d spent too much time as a coyote. He wasn’t sure what that would do to a person or their likes and dislikes.  
“We do have other business to get to tonight.” Derek tried to get the meeting back on track. “There have been some reports of animal attacks.”  
Whispers broke out.  
“So far the only evidence the police station has is some mutilated livestock, a few dogs. No-one has seen anything and no people have been hurt yet, but everyone should keep any eye out for suspicious figures.” Stiles continued for Derek. “We will keep you updated as the situation progresses, but, for now, I would just recommend you stay on your toes.”  
Jackson wondered if it would be Peter Hale again, if only for the reason that it was always Peter Hale. For a guy that was supposedly sane now, he sure did some unhealthy-looking things. As a matter of fact--Jackson looked around the room--he wasn’t here. Where was Peter? When Jackson had left, Peter had been in a strange limbo state Jackson didn’t understand, but he was definitely around, at least. Kind of. Jackson didn’t really get what was happening with Peter at the time. Actually, he just didn’t get Peter. The man came across as well-educated and clever, but operated on a razor’s edge. Jackson couldn’t trust someone so unstable.  
His eyes drifted back to his possible twin. It had been implied in conversation that she may not be the most sane character either. What level of insanity could Jackson support? Eh, he could answer that question as he went along.  
Jackson glanced around the room trying to gage how much longer this gathering would last. It wasn’t that he didn’t love sitting around watching Stiles go through a laundry list of pack things that didn’t apply to him, it was more that he was getting antsy just sitting still. Danny seemed absorbed. It must be nice to finally be included in this mess, even if it was so awful. Jackson didn’t miss Ethan holding Danny’s hand. Ugh, gross. At least he wasn’t a cold, unaffectionate douche? Danny had done worse.  
Ethan’s twin looked bored out of his mind. Jackson knew he shouldn’t try and get protective over Lydia, but he couldn’t help it. He started to search for hints as to what kind of person this Aiden was. Unfortunately, Aiden wasn’t exactly giving off any clues; being bored in the face of a Stiles lecture wasn’t very telling. Jackson glanced at Lydia, attempting to judge her overall quality of life right now. He didn’t linger; she looked fine and had always found his habit of checking up on her annoying.  
In actuality, everyone in the room looked happier than they had when he left. Maybe it was because the group had finally gotten its shit together. Maybe it’s because they all found each other. Maybe tonight was just a good night.  
Outside the window was a beautiful waning crescent moon. Jackson had always loved it when the moon was a dramatic sliver in the sky. It was still his favorite phase of the moon. He stared at it, which was quite lucky, because if he hadn’t been looking out the window, he would have missed Peter running past the apartment building. If he hadn’t seen Peter, he wouldn’t have said, “Hey, look it’s Peter.” And if he hadn’t pointed out Peter, Derek wouldn’t have done that truly impressive swan dive out of the third story window in pursuit of his uncle.  
The whole room was frozen. Jackson felt like he was missing some very pertinent information as he watched the two men sprint into the distance. Danny, who had always been his better half, was also lacking information and, like the genius he was, thought to ask. “Why is Derek chasing that man?”  
“That’s a long story.” Stiles started.  
“Cliff notes, then. Preferably done by someone with skill in being concise.” Jackson butted in.  
“Ha ha, fuck you. I’m very concise, you asshat. Do you think you could do better?”  
“Probably, except that I don’t know everything.” Jackson rolled his eyes.  
Stiles cupped a hand around his ear. “What was that? You don’t know everything? I want you to keep that in mind, jerk face.”  
Scott tapped Stiles’ arm to get his attention. “Could you tell them? A lot of our pack doesn’t know what happened with Peter; not the whole thing, anyway.”  
Stiles sighed. “Peter--that guy running away is Peter, by the way--is Derek’s uncle. He went into a coma after the family fire and he came out crazy. He killed his niece, Derek’s sister, and bit Scott. Then, Derek killed him, but it didn’t stick and he came back saner, but shifty. He betrayed us--it was complicated--and went missing. Until now, apparently.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Don’t know what he’s doing outside of Derek’s place at midnight. Doesn’t seem as thought-out as his usual moves.”

“Maybe he wanted to see his kids.” Danny mused as he and Jackson drove home. Derek had never returned and it didn’t take long for Scott to disband the pack meeting after he left. It left Jackson feeling anxious, doubting his decision to return to Beacon Hills.  
“Who?” Jackson replied, distracted.  
“Peter. Stiles mentioned that this didn’t fit his M.O., so maybe he just came by to get a glimpse of his kids.”  
Jackson focused in on Danny. “What?”  
“It just makes sense; even psychopaths are at least interested in how their kids turn out, and, I mean, one of them just returned from overseas…”  
“Danny, I’m going to need you to take a step back and tell me who Peter’s children are.”  
“I didn’t tell you? I meant to. Um, you really want to know?” Danny’s strange bouts of reticence did not bode well for Jackson.  
“Yes, Danny, I always want to know.”  
“Uh…”  
Jackson sighed. Sometimes, even silence couldn’t obscure what Danny didn’t really want to tell him. “So Father’s Day’s going to be awkward, huh? It’s coming up soon. I’ll try and coordinate something with Malia. What do you write on a cake for your murderous bio-dad, ‘Thanks for giving me up for adoption, I dodged a bullet”?”  
Danny glanced at him sympathetically. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”  
It wasn’t until they were separating to go to bed that a question occurred to Jackson. “Hey.”  
Danny stopped and turned back to look at him. “Hm?”  
“Are we going to tell everyone else that Peter’s my…?”  
Danny winced. “Maybe we shouldn’t. You saw how hostile they were to him; Derek literally jumped out of a window to get him.”  
Jackson nodded.  
Danny headed to his room. “Sweet dreams.” He called out behind him.


	4. Malia's Fun Day Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malia and Jackson bond, awkwardly and mostly off-screen.

Jackson hadn’t slept well that night, so when someone knocked at his window, he didn’t react like he normally would. Calmly, he turned to look through the glass, and when he saw a shadowy figure, he opened the window and welcomed the stranger in. It turned out that his early morning visitor was Malia.  
“Oh, hey. Sorry I’m such a mess; it’s too early.” He rubbed his hand across his face and gestured to a chair in his room. “Take a seat. Just give me a second.”  
He brushed his teeth and came out of the bathroom with his hair brush. He didn’t need to brush his hair as much as he did, but the motion was calming. Malia hadn’t sat down, instead choosing to look through all of Jackson’s stuff. He didn’t give a fuck and just watched her, brushing his hair. He noticed her hair was rather messy; his hand itched to brush it.  
But even half-asleep Jackson knew better than to surprise a werecoyote that wasn’t fully adjusted to human company, so he asked permission. “Can I brush your hair?”  
Malia stopped rifling through Jackson’s sock drawer. “Will that require that I sit still?”  
Jackson nodded.  
Malia considered it for a second before sitting in the chair Jackson had pointed out earlier. “I suppose we have time.”  
“We do?” Jackson contentedly passed the brush through her hair.  
Malia spun around in the chair, displacing Jackson’s brush. “We are going to spend the day together.”  
“We are?” Jackson repositioned the brush to accommodate for Malia’s new location.  
She nodded. “All day.”  
“Don’t you have school?” Not that Jackson cared.  
Malia wrinkled her nose. He supposed that was answer enough.  
“Any plans for the day?”  
She shook her head.  
“How do you feel about The Notebook?”

Danny accepted Jackson’s new day plans gracefully and bid the siblings adieu as he peeled out of his driveway. As it turned out, Malia didn’t like The Notebook. Jackson was disappointed, but not surprised. After watching the movie, Malia decided that they needed to have lunch with Stiles, a decision that Jackson disagreed with, but they had done something of his first, so it was only fair. Jackson found himself back at Mindy’s eating more curly fries and praying that Derek would show up again. Stiles had shown up alone, complaining about how Scott had ditched him for a girl.  
“It’s like it’s sophomore year all over again.” Stiles whined into his curly fries and cheeseburger.  
Jackson didn’t understand how Stiles got the job of teaching Malia social cues and niceties. Malia didn’t have much to say ever, if Jackson’s preliminary judgments were correct. He wasn’t sure how this pair got on.  
He picked at his fries. When Stiles finished his own, he asked Jackson, “Are you going to finish those?”  
“Yes.” Jackson replied. “Obviously. Just because I don’t down my fries in five seconds doesn’t mean that I’m not going to eat them.”  
“You don’t need to be so mean about it.” Malia scolded dispassionately. “Being mean is not O.K.”  
Jackson glared at Stiles accusingly. “This your fault.”  
Stiles shrugged, smirking. “I can’t help it if your sister likes me better, Jackson. It’s just natural.”  
Jackson watched Malia expectantly, but she didn’t react. He exclaimed, “This is so unfair.”  
Malia replied. “Life isn’t fair.”  
“That is such a cliche response that I want you to understand that what I say next isn’t necessarily directed at you: Of course life isn’t fair, but humanity’s goal for a long while has been to make it more so; to say life isn’t fair is an act of reminding someone of a fact they have not forgotten, but one they have actively been trying to change for generations.” Jackson ended his rant. “It’s just a dumb response, you know?”  
“You’re dumb.” Stiles responded, brushing off everything Jackson had said with the ease of the well-practiced.  
Jackson sighed and didn’t deign to reply, instead asking Malia. “What are we doing after this?”  
“How do teenagers usually spend their time?”  
Jackson counted off on his fingers. “Shopping, clubbing, drinking--not really able to do that anymore--”  
“What the hell kind of teenage life have you been living?” Stiles demanded. “Teenagers play video games and eat pizza and go on the internet; they don’t live in an episode of Sex and the City!”  
“Have you even watched Sex and the City? The TV show, not the movie.” Jackson asked skeptically.  
“That’s not the point here! My point is that you should take Malia out to do normal things--”  
“Like going on the internet?” Jackson asked doubtfully.  
“So that was a bad example, but you weren’t going to take your sister clubbing at--” Stiles checked his phone. “--2 in the afternoon anyways.”  
“Don’t you have class?” Malia pointed out.  
“I do.” Stiles nodded vigorously. “You are right, like always. I’ve got to go. Do normal things!” He yelled at them as he exited the diner.  
Mindy, who was behind the counter today, shook her head in disapproval.

“So… London?” Malia was trying very hard to connect with Jackson. They were extremely different people; Jackson was kind of vain and stuck-up and Malia… well, she’d been a coyote for a long time. He had been inclined to go shopping, but she had shut that down immediately. Stores made her uncomfortable; there were so many unspoken rules for how you acted in them that she just didn’t know. They ended up going back to Danny’s house and talking. The issue was that they didn’t have much to talk about.  
“Yeah, London. Um, what about it?” Jackson was reorganizing his shirts as they spoke so that they were sorted both by sleeve length and color.  
“What happened there?”  
Jackson cocked his head and glanced to where Malia was sitting behind him. “What do you mean?”  
She rested her ankle on her knee. “I refuse to believe that you didn’t have a life in London, so what did you do in London? What happened there?”  
“Really, not that much.” He went back to his shirts. He had all the sleeveless ones on the floor. “I guess I did go through a bit of a change in personality? I don’t know; London was weird.”  
Malia mirrored Jackson’s head cock from earlier.  
He sighed. “At first, I couldn’t get used to the difference in… um, hierarchy, I guess? I was, if you’ll forgive the turn of phrase, top dog in Beacon Hills, and then, well, everything, and I was suddenly in a place where I had no status. I mean, other than being rich. That’s a status. In the beginning, I acted just like I had here, and things worked out for the most part. I found myself a gang of friends and a girlfriend of sorts, but then it just quietly fell apart. I think it was my fault. I don’t know. It was a bad time.”  
His sleeveless shirts were sorted, so he moved on to quarter sleeve. It occurred to him as he looked at his pile of shirts that he had an inordinate amount of sleeveless shirts. He decided to blame Danny.  
Malia still didn’t understand, but she didn’t press. Everyone had their secrets, and she honestly didn’t care about this one. She only asked because she wanted to find something that she’d lost in this supposed brother of hers, but he largely seemed to be an empty vessel. Apparently filled with pictures of dogs? She looked around his room and saw various drawings in differing states of completion of many dog breeds. He had yet to explain them to her; maybe they were normal debris for social people? It was possible that average people like her brother littered their rooms with animal pictures. She wouldn’t know; she didn’t really know any average people.  
He continued sorting on the floor and she watched him over his shoulder. The room was quiet. She could hear his steady heartbeat. The sound combined with his shuffling and created a calming rhythm that made her sleepy. He noticed as her breathing slowed.  
It wasn’t long before he finished his organizing. He sat with his forearms resting on his legs for a few moments, thinking of what else he could tidy up in his room. Lately, re-organizing had become his favorite hobby. He stood to look around his room for his next project. His eyes landed on his sister. She was a bit of a mess; somehow she’d already managed to get her hair knotted again and, even though they hadn’t been outside for more than five minutes, she had mud on her jeans. Her clothes were rather ratty as well. He began to design a plan, but stopped himself. He couldn’t turn Malia into a project; that would be dehumanizing and alienating. He sat down and rubbed his eyes. He needed to pull himself together; all this free time was killing him. His self-destructive tendencies were returning. Thank god there was a weekend coming up. Danny would be free, along with everyone else, and they could all do things. Something. Anything.  
Maybe what he needed was some new hobbies. He’d ask Danny for suggestions.  
He looked back at Malia. He could ask her for ideas. Maybe they could bond over… hunting rabbits? Whatever it was that she did. He nodded to himself; he would do that. In the meantime, though…  
Maybe Derek would have suggestions. He’d been alone for a long time, right? He must know something about how to waste time.  
It took him a moment before he realized how sad he was, just searching for ways to kill time.  
He suddenly felt exhausted. He laid down on the floor and fell asleep.

Both Jackson and Malia woke up when Danny slammed the front door, but Malia did so more violently, jumping out of the bed. Jackson rolled over and glared at the sound of Danny’s footsteps. Before he could react, she was out the window. He stared after her in shock.   
“What is with these people and windows?” He muttered to himself.


	5. Wine and Dine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson comes to Scott's aid and it is not appreciated.

Derek was singularly unhelpful.  
“I don’t know. I just work out and nap. Like, a lot.” Derek shrugged. “Just what you want to. You spent your free time before drawing dogs, right? Why don’t you start on people or something? Cats?”  
Jackson sprawled over Derek’s couch dramatically. “You just don’t understand my struggle, Derek.”  
“Nope.”  
“Ugh. You’re the worst.”  
“Don’t you have something better to do than whine on my couch?”  
“No, I don’t. That’s why I’m here. Stiles is right; you’re dense.”  
Derek rolled his eyes. “You’re more fond of Stiles when he’s not around.”  
“‘Fond’ isn’t the right word.”  
“Sure.” Derek opened his fridge. “Do you need dinner or have you already eaten?”  
“Danny’s got dinner with the fam--”  
“Please never say that again.”  
“--so I haven’t eaten yet. What are you having?”  
“Apparently something to share.” Derek shut his fridge and glanced in his freezer, but even that last resort failed him. “We’re going to have to go shopping.” He picked up his keys out of a bowl. “Get in the car.”  
“Ugh, you’re so needy.”  
“Shut up.”

The grocery store was rather empty, so they had free reign. Jackson gravitated to the meat counter and began eyeing the steaks. Derek trailed warily.  
“This one.” Jackson pointed at a slab.  
“We don’t need that much.”  
Jackson gave Derek a long look. “We couldn’t finish it. Sure, Derek. We could always save leftovers or invite Scott and Stiles and the rest of the pack over to eat the rest. When we have too much for us to eat. Which will happen.”  
Derek grunted and picked up the steak, putting it into his basket.  
“Glad we could agree.”  
“Don’t push your luck.” Derek grumbled.  
“Anyways, side dishes.” Jackson led the pair to the fresh produce and threw a bag of potatoes into Derek’s basket. “Always potatoes.”  
“I thought you ate healthy.”  
“I don’t have to anymore; I just need calories. Lots and lots of calories.” Jackson looked around at the other produce. “Guess turning was good for something.”  
Derek sank into a guilty silence.  
It took Jackson a few seconds to realize what was happening. “Oh no, don’t do this. Nothing that happened was your fault.”  
“But I shouldn’t have turned you or anyone else in the first place.”  
“Oh, shut up. You and Stilinski have the same guilt problem, blaming yourselves for things out of your control--”  
“I think you’ll find that was completely within my control--”  
“Shut. Up. We are having steak and potatoes and, if I can find some, grits.”  
“Grits?”  
“Fucking grits.”  
“I didn't realize we were south of the Mason-Dixon Line.”  
“I didn’t realize we were south of the common sense line, but here we are.”  
“That made no sense.”  
“Well, thank god for that common sense line.”  
“Still no sense.”  
“I’d thank you kindly if you’d shut up and find the grits already.”

 

Derek wasn’t quite sure how he ended up at the stove cooking what they had bought when Jackson had been the one to pick out everything, but he had. Jackson was in the livingroom answering a call from his mother. The distance was more out of politeness than any actual effect; Derek could hear every word from the kitchen.  
“No, Mom--”  
“I’m just saying.” She defended calmly.  
“No, Mother, you are not ‘just saying.’ I’m doing just fine. Everything’s fine.” Jackson responded heatedly.  
“Why do you get so emotional? It just blocks me out, dear. I thought you were over your rebellious preteen stage.” Derek could hear her filing her nails over the phone.  
“I thought you were over being a helicopter parent. I thought that was why we moved out to London.”  
“We moved out to London in order to free you from a bad crowd.” She paused her filing to blow the dust off her fingernails.  
“It wasn’t all about me; don’t even lie.”  
“Beacon Hills wore out its shine; it’s true, but you were the impetus, honey. The force that acted upon our immobile bodies to make them move, if you will.” There was a soft shuffling sound as she rearranged herself. “We just wanted the best for you, you know that. We still want the best for you, always will. I don’t know why you can’t see that.” There was a pout in her voice, loud and clear.  
“You make it hard to see sometimes, Mom.” Jackson’s voice was quiet, disguised under the sound of boiling water.  
The woman sighed. “I’m going to come around in a week.” Ice clinked in a glass somewhere a thousand miles away. “If that’s alright with you, dear?”  
Jackson’s answering sigh resembled his mother’s. “See you then. Tell Sebastien I said hi. Father, too.”  
“I will. Have a good time.” The glass set on the table. “Tenerife is absolutely lovely. Wish you were here with me.”  
The line clicked closed and Jackson heaved another sigh. “She’s always got to have one last jab.”  
“Sounds like it’s getting better.” Derek offered over the pot of potatoes.  
“I can’t stay mad at her.” Jackson rubbed his hand over his face. “And our falling out was more of a fall from a first floor window than anything else.”  
“Ah.”  
Jackson snorted. “Ah.”  
“Ah.” Derek nodded.  
“You’re a wealth of wisdom.” Jackson noted as he took a seat at the counter overlooking the stove.  
“Sorry, I don’t know how to deal with family stuff.” Derek shrugged. “I haven’t had to deal with mine since I was sixteen.”  
Jackson stared at Derek.  
“It was a joke. I was joking.”  
“Yeah, about your dead family.”  
“You can laugh or you can cry.” Derek pulled plates out of his cabinets. “Or you can be emotionally repressed.”  
“For about a decade, huh?”  
“Repression has an expiration date, I guess. At least for me.”  
“Oh, I don’t think you’re done quite yet.”  
“What can I say? Recovery’s a process.”  
There was a squealing of tires and a great, loud door slam, then the front door flew open.  
“Derek!” Stiles came running into the kitchen. “We’ve got a class five emergency--What’s Jackson doing here?”  
“Usurping your place in pack hierarchy.” Jackson droned.  
“Shut your stupid whore mouth, Jackson. I was asking Derek.” Stiles bit out. “But for real, what’s he doing here?”  
“Nevermind that; what’s the emergency?” Derek tried to get the conversation back on track.  
“Scott’s dad just arrived for a surprise visit--”  
Derek’s face screwed up, but then he sighed, shaking his head. “And what am I supposed to do about that?”  
“Go in there and--I don’t know--distract him, maybe?” Derek couldn’t tell if this was a serious Stiles plan or a I-don’t-know-but-I’ve-got-to-say-something Stiles plan. Would Stiles get mad at him if he didn’t try and barge into Scott’s home? While Derek was squinting at Stiles trying to suss out his intentions, Jackson was carrying on the conversation.  
“Oh that’s a great plan. Why aren’t you doing it?”  
“Melissa may have kicked me out the second she saw Rafe’s approaching car. Maybe. Possibly.”  
“Has Rafe met Derek before?”  
“Uh, yeah. He arrested Derek--”  
“Then why would you send Derek? He’s already got a bad impression of the guy--”  
“Is that you volunteering?” Stiles looked like he had just caught the scent of blood in the water.  
“No--” Jackson tried to stop him.  
“Well, like you said, Derek isn’t the best man for the job, and I can’t go because Rafe already hates me. That leaves only you.”  
“No. I don’t know him--” The end was inevitable.  
“That’s why it’s ideal!” Stiles’ face lit up with fervent glee.  
“No.”  
“O.K., so Scott’s address is--”  
“No, no, no, no--”  
“Good luck!” Stiles shoved Jackson out the front door.  
Derek looked at the steak, potatoes, and grits he’d cooked and at the place where Jackson used to be and back again. Then he turned to Stiles. “Would you like to eat?”  
“Would I?” Stiles exclaimed enthusiastically. 

Scott’s house was unassumingly generic, but Jackson knew it was his because of the escalating voices coming from within. He turned into the driveway and just sat there for a minute. Was he really going to do this? He didn’t like butting his head into other people’s business. As the talking became shouting, Jackson decided he should go in. He’d had training in how to descalate situations. Sure, it wasn’t very good training, after all, it came from the public school system, but it was something. He rang the doorbell.  
The voices stopped and steps approached the door. Jackson shuffled nervously as it opened. “Hey, Melissa.”  
The nurse was very confused. “Hello, Jackson. What’s up?”  
“I was just wondering if I could hang out here for a while. Danny’s having a family dinner and I don’t want to disturb them more than I already am.” Jackson replied, seemingly abashed. “I know it’s late notice--well, no notice, really--but--well--”  
“Of course.” Melissa interrupted his stammering. “And I’m sure Danny’s family don’t see you as disturbing them at all; they love you. Why, Danny’s mom came in the other day gushing about how she was so happy to see you again.”  
“She’s sweet, which is why I feel so bad.” Jackson smiled at Melissa. “I hope I’m not putting you out.”  
“Don’t worry about it. We were just about to eat.”  
“Oh no, I couldn’t.”  
“Have you eaten yet?” Melissa asked challengingly.  
“No, but I’d hate to impose--”  
“I’ve made enough to feed six; we’ll be fine.”  
Jackson chuckled. “You are a very prepared woman.”  
“I’ve learned to be.”  
The air became tense. The phrase seemed to herald back to an old argument. Jackson mustered himself and turned to Rafe. “Hello, I’m Jackson. You are?” He held out his hand and put on his most charming smile.  
The man looked at him almost suspiciously as they shook. “Rafe McCall.” He glanced between Jackson and Scott.  
“Everyone take a seat. Scott, could you help me carry--Thank you. Here we go.” Melissa with the help of Scott set the table. Rafe sat awkwardly and Jackson took a seat next to him. So far Jackson had been valiantly ignoring all the looks that Scott had been sending his way; he wasn’t sure if this was a sustainable strategy, but he was going to try to keep it up for the rest of the night, maybe for the rest of his life.  
Scott sat next to Jackson and kept looking at him. Clearly, this boy had never heard of subtlety. Jackson gladly accepted the bowl of pasta Melissa presented to him. “Thank you so much. It smells delicious.”  
“You’re welcome, Jackson.” Melissa replied as she took the chair across from him to the right of Rafe.  
It was quiet as everyone ate, but eventually the silence became heavy. Jackson did his level best to improve the mood. “So, Rafe, what is it that you do?”  
“I work with the FBI.” He responded tersely.  
“Oh, fun. In what capacity?” Jackson inquired earnestly.  
“Well, I used to be a detective, but recently I was promoted to director of my department.”  
Jackson smiled. “That’s great! I--” Jackson’s phone rang. “Uh, sorry. Give me a second.” He went to the hallway and answered his phone.  
“Scott’s freaking out.” Stiles’ voice came at him. “He keeps sending me emergency texts.”  
“Emergency texts? What do those look like?” Jackson glanced back into the dining room.  
“Mostly a lot of exclamation marks. Why? Anyways,” Stiles changed tracks. “You need to find a way to tell him why you’re there, ‘cause he’s not getting it.”  
“Just tell him now; he’ll hear you.” Jackson pointed out. Honestly, it seemed these people always forgot that werewolves had super-hearing. “Plus he’ll trust it coming from you a lot more than he would if it was me saying it.”  
“True. Hey, Scott. Yes you. Listen up.” Jackson rolled his eyes and held the phone away from his head as Stiles delivered his message. “Jackson’s here to intervene in my place; you know, keep Rafe in line. So stop worrying, man. Also, you still owe me twenty bucks. Peace. Stiles out.”  
Jackson huffed as Stiles hung up. He returned to the dining room, taking his seat once more. He smiled pleasantly at Melissa. “Just my mom. She’s coming to town soon, so she’s just trying to hammer out the details of her trip.”  
“Oh really? I do hope she’s been having a good time in England.”  
“She’s been spending a whole lot of time on foreign beaches, rest assured. Where were we? Ah, yes…”

About two hours later Jackson left dragging Scott behind him.  
“Your mother’s a grown woman; she can handle her own ex-husband.” Jackson said as he forced Scott into the passenger seat of his car.  
“But no-one should have to deal with Rafe.” Scott grumbled.  
“Now that was a distinctly Stiles-like phrase. I know you don’t mean it because you are a very forgiving person.”  
Scott hummed noncommittally.  
“So…” Jackson sighed. It wasn’t his job to have this conversation. “I wonder if Stiles is still at Derek’s house. Let’s go check.”  
Scott sulked the entire ride. Jackson was relieved when the apartment came into view. They could hear Stiles before they opened the door, which, while not impressive, was a good sign. Jackson shoved off Scott onto Stiles and then asked Derek if he had any leftovers.  
Derek eyed him like he knew Jackson was stress-eating, but Jackson didn’t care. Derek had worse habits than Jackson’s stress-eating, so he could shut up. The two of them hung out in the kitchen re-heating food while Scott and Stiles had a private argument that was awkwardly public in the next room. Derek kept shifting his weight and would occasionally wince when Stiles or Scott would shout.  
“Hey,” Jackson started, hesitantly trying to comfort him. “It’s all good. They’ll still be friends in the morning.”  
Derek looked at him like he was insane, but Jackson ignored him.  
“They need this fight.”  
“I don’t think they do.” Derek replied quietly, eyeing the wall behind which Stiles and Scott stood.  
“Maybe we should leave them alone.” Jackson suggested as the volume of the voices in the next room went up.  
“Maybe.”  
Derek grabbed his keys and they slipped out.


	6. The Highway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why deal with your problems when you can just drive down to LA?

It’d been awhile since Jackson had driven around just for the heck of it. He’d almost never driven at all in London. The experience was almost novel. The town was different at night. Beacon Hills was by no means big, though it certainly wasn’t small, but it felt like it at night. The darkness expanded and contracted, like an ever-changing infinity. Jackson shook his head, he must be getting tired.  
They drove in big loops, circling the neighborhood far away enough to avoid eavesdropping. For a second, they drove closer, but Scott’s raised voice turned them around. Derek brought them out to the preserve. It would have been pleasant except for all the teenagers doing things Jackson didn’t want to bear witness to in their cars. They swung back to the apartment, but the argument had not abated. Derek smoothly made a u-turn in the middle of the street and silently made his way for the highway.  
Eventually, Derek turned to Jackson and asked, “You got anywhere to be tomorrow?”  
“No, not really.” He responded.   
“Then let’s go somewhere.”  
“Where, exactly?”  
“Just somewhere else. Anywhere else.”  
Jackson wasn’t sure if it was a figment of his imagination, but he could have sworn that he could still hear the barest murmurings of Stiles and Scott’s fight, even from here. He shifted in his seat. “Yeah, sounds good.”

At some point, Jackson dozed off and when he woke up they were passing through Santa Barbara.  
“Whatcha doin’, man? Drivin’ us down t’ th’ border?” He mumbled sleepily.   
Derek grunted in response and Jackson fell back asleep. 

Jackson woke up to the sound of his phone ringing.   
“Swear I never get this many phone calls…” He grumbled as he fished for it in his pocket. “Hello?”  
“Hey, Jackson.” Danny greeted him.  
“Oh, hey. What’s up?” Jackson yawned.  
“You never came home last night, so I was checking up on you.” Jackson jolted to the realization that he didn’t normally wake up in a car. “Just to make sure: You’re not dead?”  
“Uh, nope.” Jackson looked around. “Safe and sound.” Derek was still driving, but the road wasn’t as empty as before. In fact, it was more crowded than Jackson would expect for--he checked the car clock--5:17 a.m. “Danny, what are you doing up at 5?”  
“We’ve got morning practice.”  
“Ah.”  
“One more question: Where are you? You know, since you’re not here and all.”   
“Uh…” Jackson glanced around. The sun was beginning to rise on his left, softly illuminating the water on his right. “If I had to guess, somewhere between Santa Barbara and LA? Maybe somewhere around Malibu.”  
“Is that your final answer?” Danny joked.  
“Yeah.” Derek grunted.  
“Yeah.” Jackson repeated.   
“O.K., so I lied about that being my last question.” Danny said. “Why the hell are you in Malibu?”  
Jackson scrambled for an answer. It was too early for him to lie well and he couldn’t just say ‘oh I had to leave Derek Hale’s apartment because Scott and Stiles were arguing over Scott’s problems with his dad and Derek kind of just drove us all the way to LA.’ That would be stupid. Sure, Danny had seen him do much worse, but it was the principle of the matter. Luckily enough, at that moment Derek turned off the highway and inspired Jackson.   
“Just wanted to see the sunrise.” He said.  
Danny waited a moment before replying. “But you can see the sunrise in Beacon Hills?”  
“Yeah, but not like this, Danny. It’s gorgeous.”   
“Whatever you say.” Danny rolled his eyes. “I’ve got to go. Have fun driving back through rush hour.”  
“Shit.”  
Danny hung up. 

Derek was staring straight ahead, not blinking. Jackson watched him warily. Should he poke him? Were they close enough for that? Derek flicked his eyes at him with a raised eyebrow. Jackson shrugged, slightly freaked out. The last few hours had been sufficiently strange to put him on edge. He wasn’t used to interfering with McCall’s family life or suffering through disastrous decline of the legendary Stiles-Scott duo. What was happening there?  
“They’ve been… stressed lately.” Derek’s grumbly voice startled Jackson, who jumped in his seat. “Stiles and Scott, that is. They’ve been--”  
“Are you psychic?” Jackson whispered. He’d like to say in his defense, that psychic abilities are not that much of a leap from werewolves, and also that he only got like five hours of sleep.  
“What? No, no…” Derek shook his head, baffled. “I’m trying to get you caught up on like… things. Relationships?” He spoke slowly and his head tilted. “No, not that? The current dynamics and how we got here, kind of. Yeah.”  
“You’re exhausted. Pull over.”  
“I’m fine. I could keep going.” Derek mumbled, but he pulled off at the next exit anyways. They found themselves onto a road so poorly maintained that Jackson could hardly tell if it was gravel or crumbling asphalt. The road ended in sand littered with broken glass, but it looked over a decently pretty beach. By this time the sun was mostly above the horizon as they sat in Derek’s car.   
Moving the car into park, Derek asked. “Can I nap?”  
“Sure, bro.”  
“We aren’t bros.”  
“O.K.” Jackson held his hands up. Derek shuffled around, making himself comfortable. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep.   
Jackson shifted around awkwardly. After a few minutes he got out of the car and walked over to the water, carefully avoiding all the trash on the ground. He reached where the water lapped at the sand and stared out at the ocean. It reminded him of his last vacation with his mother. They had traveled to Crete and rented a house with a private stretch of coast. Everyday was spent by the water, drinking fruity drinks and enjoying eachothers’ company. Jackson’s father had been in Switzerland handling some sort of financial affair. It was just after they had moved away from Beacon Hills. His mother had decided that what they needed was a break, a little vacation before they returned to the day-to-day drag.  
“It’s the doldrums, dear.” His mother exposited, sipping on a mai-tai. “They bring you down, make you do things you wouldn’t do otherwise just to escape the monotony of it all.”  
Jackson hummed in agreement.   
“You’re going to need to catch up with things when we settle down again. Do some online school, pick up some new skills or pastimes. You’ll have some free time for a while, before things pick up. You’re a smart boy; it won’t be tough.”  
Jackson nodded. He was lazily soaking up the sun.  
“Soon you’ll have new friends.” She adjusted her sunglasses. “Fun friends. Friends that will take you on beach vacations and show you your potential. Friends that’ll lead you to greatness.”  
“Maybe I don’t need anyone to lead me to greatness; maybe I’ll lead others.” Jackson stretched out in his chair, feeling the languid heat of the sun beat down on him.  
His mother looked over at him. “Well, you’ve got a ways to go before you can lead others to greatness. You should start by focusing on self-improvement.”  
“Any ideas?” Jackson asked. “Self-improvement is so nebulous.”  
“Ah, something more concrete?” She hummed. “Languages aren’t a bad way to start. Art’s not terrible. Maybe,” she joked. “learn to mix drinks. I need another mai-tai.”  
Jackson laughed as the sun set. 

“Jackson.”   
He startled, almost falling back from the water. The image of the island faded and was replaced by the sad-looking beach before him. There’s a sign he didn’t notice before warning of the undertow.  
Derek was calling at him from the car. “We should head back.”   
“Yeah.” Jackson responded. “Yeah, you’re right.”   
As he walked to the car, he glanced back. The sand glinted in the light of midday; it was almost blinding. 

“I don’t want to know what my mom would think of this.” Jackson mused out loud as they cruised down the highway. “Driving off to LA with a grown man… If she didn’t want me coming back before…” He laughed.   
“Your mom didn’t want you to come back?” Derek cut through Jackson’s good mood.   
“Yeah. She doesn’t think Beacon Hills… or my friends… are good for me.” Jackson tried to explain but he didn’t want to talk about how his mom had made him ashamed of his friends for a little while there. Even Danny. Jackson couldn’t believe he could ever be ashamed of Danny. He had known she didn’t know about what had really happened, but still her words had gotten to him.   
Derek hummed. “Do you think it is? That they are?”  
“Yeah, but--My mother worries, you know?” Jackson tried to explain. “She’s just bad at it.”  
Derek was silent.  
“It was different for her. She means well, just wants the best for me.”  
They turned off the interstate and onto the highway.   
“She doesn’t get it though. I don’t want her life. I don’t want to get to know people just so I can use them later.” Jackson backpedaled. “Not that she does--Anyways, I don’t think she understands wanting something else than what she has. And she has an awful lot, so it’s understandable, but I don’t want things, I want--” But what did Jackson want?   
Derek glanced over.  
“She said I should find people who will make me better, who will lead me to greatness. I don’t know if I want that second thing, but the first...” Jackson flipped down that visor to look at himself in the mirror, avoiding Derek’s gaze. “She said I couldn’t lead people to greatness.”  
“Sometimes,” Derek murmured. “It’s not what we say that matters.”  
“I guess.” Jackson replies, unsure of what Derek is trying to say. “Whatever. Throwback question, Stiles and Scott? What’s happening there?”  
Derek hummed. “I don’t really get it, of course. I do try to have a life.”  
Jackson snorted.  
“Anyways, they’ve both had to… make tough decisions and they don’t agree with what the other has done, per se.” Derek shrugged and changed lanes, pulling in front of an eighteen wheeler. “I don’t know all the details; no-one does. I wouldn’t ask.”  
“Are these like heart versus logic decisions? Because I could see them disputing over that…”  
Derek shook his head. “No, it’s more… Scott chose group over Stiles; didn’t trust him enough? And Stiles made decisions that Scott just can’t understand or empathize with? Something along those lines. Now that the crisis has passed—”  
“They’ve swept their problems under the rug?”  
“Yeah.”  
Jackson mulled it over for a bit. “Well, that’s a whole lot of nothing that I don’t need to know.”  
Derek shrugged. “I wish I didn’t know it.”  
They sat in silence until Jackson got bored started fiddling with the radio. It was full of morning talk shows, the kind that Jackson detested, so he turned it off. He tapped his fingers against his leg. “So have you thought about the house any further? I mean, your apartment was stuffed to the brim during the pack meeting, a bigger place would be great to have.”  
Derek hummed thoughtfully. “Like I said, I’m not building a house. But in my plans I have tried to account for large groups of people hanging around and possibly having to stay over. There’s a lot of multipurpose rooms. I can’t decide if a skylight is a good idea or a bad one.”  
Jackson grimaced. “Yeah, that’d be a double-edged sword. I can see Scott sitting on your roof already.”  
“It’d encourage bad habits, yeah.”   
“Where would you want your house to be? If you were building it, not that you are.” Jackson asked slyly.  
“It would have to be out in the woods, preferably on the preserve, though that may be difficult to get greenlit.”  
“Not that it matters, since you aren’t actually building this house.”  
“Yeah.” Derek mumbled.

They hit traffic somewhere around San Luis Obispo.  
“We haven’t moved in ten minutes.” Jackson muttered.   
Derek grunted.   
Unenthused by Derek’s response, Jackson rolled his eyes and opened the glove box. Derek didn’t stop him, watching as he rifled through a stack of papers and some napkins that had made their way in over the years.”Well, now that I have a captive audience, it's a great time for me to talk through my feelings about Danny’s relationship.”  
“I could run to Beacon Hills.” Derek mused. “Just jump out of the car and take off. It's been a long time since I got to run like that.”  
Jackson, not finding anything of interest, stopped digging around and slammed the glove box shut. “You’re hilarious. As if. Then you'd have to leave your precious camaro to my tender mercies. I'd love it well in your absence. I haven't driven in a couple of months, but I'm sure I wouldn't get into any serious car crash, probably only a small fender bender or two. I'd get it back to you eventually, paint scraped and leather ruined beyond repair, and you'd think ‘why on earth couldn't I just have listened to Jackson worry about his best friend for a few minutes.’”   
“Yeah, I'm sure that'd be my first thought.” The car in front of them began to crawl forward, but it was a false start. Derek sighed. “You've got ten minutes.”  
“Thank you, oh great beneficence. I owe you a debt of gratitude.” Jackson leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Like Ethan seems like an alright guy; he actually cares about Danny and that's nice, better than some guys Danny’s dated. He sets off some douche bag alarm bells, but not enough to cause a big scene over. And it's not like he's good enough for Danny, no-one’s good enough for Danny because he's perfect and kind and has really nice abs. But Ethan also seems dumb as a rock? Maybe I'm misjudging him; I haven't known him for long.”  
Derek made a noncommittal noise as the inched on further.   
“Yeah, I don't think I am. Is intelligence a reason to break them up though?”  
“I think it's Danny’s decision whether or not he wants to date Ethan and, on some level, you should stay out of it.” Derek shrugged and sipped from his water cup he had gotten when they stopped for breakfast. “Don't say anything against him unless Danny asks or they've broken up. Though I hear they're on and off again, so use your best judgement?”  
“Stiles tell you that?”  
“Yeah.” Derek hesitated. “You know what I think Stiles would say if he was here right now? I think he would ask you why you are so against Ethan, who, as you’ve admitted, is better than Danny’s usual type.”  
“O.K…. It’s mainly because he’s not good enough for Danny, which is a point I’ve already touched on so…” Confused by this hypothetical Stiles, Jackson shrugged and moved on. “I've heard that Lydia and Aiden are on and off again as well.” Jackson feigned like he didn't care, like this was a natural segue in conversation. “Must be something about those twins.”  
Derek rolled his eyes but didn’t stop him.  
“Is Aiden anything like his brother?” Jackson put his hands behind his head and stretched, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. He was glad that Derek was the only one around to see him being so decidedly uncool.   
“I don’t know, I guess? I don’t know him. Like I’ve said, I don’t actually spend all my time hanging out with teenagers.”  
“There’s no need to brag, Derek.” Jackson lowered his arms. “How do you get away with not knowing this kind of stuff?”  
Derek shrugged. “Stiles is usually happy to know all of it for me and will gladly tell me about it if I need to know. Or even if I don’t.”  
“Ha, yeah.” Jackson should have known Derek wouldn’t be terribly useful. “Well, in that case, settle in.”   
He had been avoiding dwelling on Lydia ever since he had moved away. He had failed her. He had never been supportive enough, even before the bite but then he ran to London, abandoning her to face all of the supernatural problems of Beacon Hills--problems that he knew about, having been one of them--alone. Although she wasn't alone, was she? She had friends, like Allison, and more-than-friends, like Aiden. There was a flare of jealousy, but it was tempered by a sort of thankfulness. It was a good thing that there were people to take care of her. The knowledge that Lydia had a support system in place comforted him, even if he wasn’t a part of that system anymore. But not being there for her--the guilt consumed him. He was protective of her still, though he’d lost all right, if he had it in the first place.   
He doubted that Aiden felt the same, that Aiden cared for Lydia even a tenth of what Jackson cared for Lydia. That was not to say that Jackson deserved Lydia anymore than Aiden did, though. Lydia was nearly flawless and Jackson--he was too stupid, too incompetent, too overbearing, too much and not enough all at the same time. Neither of them were good enough for Lydia, but here Jackson was, riding in on his high horse, trying to save Lydia from herself again. Hadn’t he learned his lesson?   
To put this into words was what he wanted, but he couldn’t vocalize it. He tried to imply it through his usual means of complaining about his friends’ significant others. “So I don’t know anything about Aiden, but he’s clearly not good enough for Lydia.” He paused. He was pretty sure he’d just said a very similar thing about Ethan and Danny. He was going to have to mix it up a bit. “She’s so smart and gorgeous and Aiden’s not.” Wait, that was also similar to what he said about Danny and Ethan. Damn.  
Derek snorted. Jackson was not impressed with what he had said either. He needed to come up with more reasons for why his friends were better than everyone around them. “How do you know if he’s smart if you don’t know him? And according to the most recent Stiles report, Aiden is ‘pretty hot, I guess, but Ethan’s better.’” Derek had done a voice for Stiles that somehow sounded nothing like him but everything like him at the same time.  
It was the funniest thing Jackson had heard in quite a while. He buckled over laughing, the seat belt cutting into his ribs. He gasped out, “Does he tell you his hotness ratings for everyone?”  
“I plead the fifth.”   
Jackson gasped in between laughs to regain his breath. “What did he say about me?”  
The corner of Derek’s mouth twitched and they sped up, finally able to coast along at the speed limit. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy. If I tell you, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to die.”  
“Oh man, you can’t do this to me.” Jackson straightened up, still giggling a little bit. “Section 4, article 6 of the Bro Code: Don’t leave a bro hanging.”  
Derek tensed up and his eyes narrowed. “What have I told you about calling me ‘bro?’”  
Jackson gulped.  
Derek broke, a smile sliding over his face and he relaxed. “Just kidding. I don’t care if you call me bro.” Jackson forced out a single ‘ha.’ “But never call me bro around the rest of the pack.”  
“Yeah, okay.”   
Derek glanced at Jackson out of the corner of his eye. “Anything else you want to say?”  
“What?”  
“You’ve got another minute or something.”  
“Oh.” The moment had passed to complain about Aiden, plus he didn’t have anything to complain about yet. He’d save it for another day. Was there something else he wanted to tell Derek? He could mention that Donny thought Peter was Jackson’s dad, and, by extension, Malia’s as well. But the idea didn’t sit right with him. Malia didn’t know yet and she should know that before Derek did. Jackson tried to fix his hair. Some strands were flopping in a way that was less dashingly handsome and more endearingly adorable, which was not a look he was going for. “No, thanks. I’m good for today.”   
They drove, passing out of the city and onto open highway. Jackson curled up in his seat facing towards the car door.  
“I’m going to sleep.” He announced. Derek grunted and Jackson let the soporific rumbling of the engine lull him to sleep.


End file.
